(By his daughter, originally published in Hamodia) On the words in Avos (4:13), “V’kesser shem tov oleh al gabeihen”, Rabbeinu Yonah writes that the purpose of coming to this world is to acquire a shem tov, and when someone leaves this world with a shem tov, “yismechu alav krovav vohavav,” his relatives and friends will rejoice with him. My father, Reb Shimon Betzalel Edelstein, zt”l, has a glorious reputation as a gaon batorah, mushlam in middos, and baal chessed mufla. His shem tov is recognized by all who knew him, whether from yeshiva, shul, neighborhood, or the business world. It is difficult to try and find a frame of reference for my father. He was much greater than the sum of his parts. His accomplishments were so extraordinary that he almost cannot be described; he had to be experienced. My father was a brilliant lawyer and executive vice president of a major corporation for many years, and though he enjoyed his work, we never heard much about it from him. His gadlus baTorah was legendary, and nothing was more important to him than his Sunday morning shiur in Aruch Hashulchan at Khal Kol Torah (Rabbi Geldwerth). When he first started, I used to type up his notes so he could send mareh mekomos (sources) to the people who attended the shiur. I was young back then and it used to take me all Sunday to type in Hebrew. I wanted to stop. My father told me it would get easier, and it did, and I learned a new skill. It was his way of showing me that I can accomplish if I just put in the effort. He scheduled his life around the shiur, prioritizing it over other so-called important events. He had a room in my brother’s yeshiva so he could give his shiur virtually and still be on time for Sunday morning avos ubanim programs. When my uncle made a bris in Lakewood, he arrived early so he could give his shiur from the car and still run in to participate in the simcha. He delivered the shiur virtually from his hospital bed up until a few weeks ago. It was that level of mesiras nefesh that orchestrated our getting up from shivah at 9:15 on Sunday morning, in time for my father’s neshamah to deliver the Sunday morning Aruch Hashulchan shiur in yeshiva shel ma’alah. My father lived every shiur that he gave. When the inyan was shemitah, he printed jumbo maps of Eretz Yisrael to discuss the halachos with his family on Shabbos. When the inyan was mezuzah, he took the family on neighborhood walks pointing out differences and halachic ramifications of different doorposts. And of course he ended with hilchos refuah b’Shabbos, so he can live and implement his shiur until his last day. There were no gaps between his limud and his ma’aseh. Likewise, there were no gaps between his inspiration and his actions. If my father thought he should learn something, he just learned it, even if it was a topic that few learned or an esoteric sefer. If he thought someone needed chizzuk, he picked up the phone and gave it. If a mossad or organization needed help, he took a personal achrayus to rebuild it with expert legal advice, financial backing, […]